


How Soon is Now

by aprettyaway



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprettyaway/pseuds/aprettyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a model, and Nick is enamored. Except they make it a bit more complicated than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Soon is Now

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this is an AU in which Nick is still a radio DJ but One Direction doesn't exist. I have a few more bits to this going, all of which are various lengths, so expect sequels and timestamps etc. 
> 
> Also, I don't have a beta (if anyone would like to offer their services, I'd be down for that, because I'm clueless about Britishisms and also am probably missing some important One Direction knowledge, as this is my first completed fic in this fandom). All mistakes are down to my lack of editing skills - I apologize in advance.

Nick first sees Louis Tomlinson completely by accident, because Henry decides to drag him to men’s fashion week in London, which isn’t even really a thing. It’s all right, Nick supposes, and it’s even better than all right when he spots one particular model strutting down the runway, having been given the honor of closing the show.

He’s obviously new – there’s a slight bounce to his step and his skin glows with a natural tan, no bags under his eyes. He’s not exactly your typical model, either, mostly because he’s on the shorter side. But everything else about him is too fucking perfect. His eyes are this beautiful blue that Nick can see even from his seat, and he has a defined bone structure that makes Nick want to run his thumb over those cheekbones.

Next to him, Pixie giggles, and Nick pretends not to know why. He’ll probably never see the model again, anyways. They’re a dime a dozen around this time of the year, even the boys.

It turns out that of the four shows Nick sees during men’s fashion week, Louis is in three of them.

“Who’s that?” Nick asks as casually as he can muster when he spots Louis in the second show. This time he’s opening for Hackett London.

“I can ask around,” Henry says, and before they even arrive at Alexa’s for the after party, he informs Nick, “His name’s Louis Tomlinson – he’s a new face, just started getting into the business this fall, it seems like. His agent is Simon Cowell, though, which means he must have potential.”

“Interesting,” Nick says noncommittally.

The difference after the third show Louis is in – Burberry, which is nothing to turn your nose at – is that when Nick attends the after show party with Pixie and Henry, Louis Tomlinson is there, hair still styled into a the same quiff as on the runway but wearing more casual attire than his runway look. He’s standing with Cara and another beautiful model with loose brown curls and sun kissed skin, both of which are eerily similar to Louis’. 

“You’re staring,” Henry says, sounding like he’s enjoying this far too much.

Nick waves a hand in his vague direction and says, “I’m getting a drink.”

“Right, then why don’t you go introduce yourself, instead of making moon eyes,” Henry suggests forwardly.

_Maybe I will_ , Nick thinks. But by the time he consumes enough liquid courage to approach him, Louis Tomlinson is gone.

* 

Nick tries to mentally play it off like it’s no big deal, but naturally that bites him in the arse the next time he sees Harry.

“Saw you staring at Louis last night,” is how Harry greets Nick on Monday morning when he walks into the station. Harry’s in his seat, twirling around so that his hair flies out in all directions.  He looks both ridiculous and sickeningly adorable at the same time, which is basically how he made it to the X Factor finals at sixteen. Since then, he’s managed to take over Europe with a world tour and two singles. It’s appalling, really, and sometimes Nick doesn’t even know why he puts up with the teenager.

“You’re in my seat, and I was not staring at anyone, Harold, honestly,” Nick says. After a pause, he asks, “How do you know him?”

“He’s friends with one of my friends from home, Eleanor, who models with him,” Harry explains, which is rather surprising, because usually _Nick_ is the one that knows everybody, and Harry’s the one asking questions. “We hit it off, Louis is great. He gets on well with Little Mix, too. All the girls have a bit of a crush on him.”

“Exactly how well does he get on with Little Mix?” Nick asks, because he’s interviewing the group next week, as they’re just about to release their next single, and Harry could have some useful knowledge.

“Don’t be nosy,” Harry says reprovingly.

“I interview people, Haz, I’m basically paid to be nosy,” Nick says. “Speaking of, did Finchy give you the run down of how this will go?”

Harry nods. He looks like he wants to say more, but then other people file in and start talking about serious things, and Harry gets distracted. Nick knows he won’t be dissuaded that easily, however.

Sure enough, after the interview, Nick puts on Harry’s new single and turns to the pop star, who immediately says, “I’m having some people over sometime this week, I’ll message you about it. You should come – I’ve invited Louis.”

“I probably have plans, but I’ll try to fit you in,” Nick says, because sometimes he acts like a bastard even as he tries to stop himself. Harry just grins, as if he knows how full of shit Nick is.

“See you soon, Grimmy,” he replies brightly, and bounces out of the recording booth.

Nick scowls after him. _Pop stars_ , honestly.

*

Nick refuses to go to Harry’s party on principle, up until the point that Aimee calls him a five-year-old, and Alexa goads him by saying he’s scared. So finally, heaving a deep sigh so it would be audible over the phone, he agrees to make an appearance. By the time he finds something to wear, tries to cover the bags under his eyes, catches a cab, and arrives, it’s already eleven. He probably should not be up this late, but it’s more socially acceptable to be hung over at work on a Friday than any other day of the week, so it isn’t the worst-case scenario.

Five minutes after entering, Nick spots Harry, front plastered against the back of a very familiar smaller boy with tan skin and feathery brown hair.

“Soz I’m late,” he drawls as he approaches.

Harry quite literally swings his entire body towards Nick, bringing the boy his hands are wrapped around with him in the process. One of the best things about Harry is that he always looks so genuinely excited to see you, and he does the same now, smiling widely and exclaiming, “Grimmy! I knew you’d come.”

“No need to sound so smug,” Nick chides him, which is a joke, coming from him. “You’ve already forgotten about me, I see.”

Harry looks confused, but the twinkle in his eyes says that it’s entirely engineered, and then declares, “Oh, this is Louis. We’re celebrating, he’s going to be a supermodel. Lou, this is Nick Grimshaw.”

“Congratulations, darling,” Nick says, aware of his condescending tone but not quite able to scale it back. “Don’t quite have the height for it, do you?”

Louis goes stone-faced, lips thinning slightly. “It’s worked for me so far.”

“Just look at his face,” Harry says, kissing Louis on the cheek. He gives Nick a warning look from under his lashes, but Harry has some work to do before he looks at all intimidating. “He’s just lovely, isn’t he?”

Nick makes a noncommittal sound, taking a sip of his gin and tonic. Louis is still staring calculatingly at him with cool blue eyes.

“Grimmy's a DJ,” Harry says, seemingly unbothered that he’s carrying the conversation. He’s sort of stroking Louis’ stomach with his thumb, and Louis is looking remarkably unbothered and un-aroused. Usually someone is one or the other with Harry touching him or her like that. But, then, Harry is a very tactile person in general. Maybe Louis is just already acclimated.

Nick excuses himself, because he needs a drink if he’s going to deal with this. He goes to the kitchen, but after he procures a rum and Coke, he chooses to mingle instead of approaching Louis. It’s impossible not to know where he is in the room, however, his presence is vibrant and it’s impossible to look away. It’s annoying, really.

About an hour later, Nick’s back in the kitchen getting himself some wine and chatting with a couple of Harry’s producer friends, when Louis comes up and quite literally hops onto the counter next to him. Nick turns towards him, frowning. His companions seem to take their cue and slide away.

“You’re a bit of a prick, did you know that?”

“Did you come find me just to say that, love?” Nick asks. “Because I’m already well aware.”

“No, I came over because some girl with pink hair said you like models, and Haz mentioned you’ve been asking after me,” Louis says. He’s swinging his legs, which is both cute and making Nick feel like a pedophile. “I think I’m supposed to take a hint.

“Hm, and what hint would that be?” Nick drawls. He takes a sip of his wine, even though he’s already feeling more than a little sloshed.

“That you pulling my proverbial pigtails back there was really code for _I’d like to do dirty things to you_ ,” Louis says, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s wearing a tight, soft-looking t-shirt and maroon skinny jeans cuffed at the ankles. He doesn’t look dirty at all, except for that devilish look on his face. Nick is entranced in spite of himself – usually the people he sleeps with are rather dull, compared to this.

“Dirty things, is it? Is that what you like?” Nick asks, and it might come out a bit raspy. Louis cocks his head to the side and observes Nick wordlessly. There’s a palpable tension in the air, and Nick doesn’t know which one of them is supposed to make the first move, but he finds himself holding his break in anticipation regardless. Louis’ eyes flit down to Nick’s lips, and unbidden Nick’s eyes do the same.

On impulse, Nick reaches out and feels the hem of his shirt – it’s as soft as he suspected. Louis seems to take that as a sign, because he reaches out and wraps his arms around Nick’s neck, gently pulling him closer. Nick walks forward willingly, putting his wine glass down on the counter next to Louis. He’s standing in-between Louis’ spread legs now, can feel the heat radiating off of him. His hand slips under Louis’ shirt, and the boy shivers. 

“Your hair is dumb,” Louis informs him only a bit breathlessly, and then they’re kissing. 

Nick loses track of time and of his thoughts like this, just letting Louis’ tongue slide over his own leisurely. Louis plays with the scruff on the back of Nick’s neck, and moans into the kiss when Nick slides his hand up Louis’ back, his hand so big that it practically spans the width of his back. 

Louis pushes closer, and it’s not so relaxed anymore, is actually quite heated, and Nick grinds forward just a little, his other hand sliding up Louis’ thigh and manhandling it so that it’s wrapped around his waist. Louis undulates his hips forward as much as he can given his position, which, fuck, and then pulls away. 

“You have someplace for us to go, then?” he asks, demanding. Nick swallows, and pulls Louis down off the counter. He’s so much shorter that it sends a rush of blood to Nick’s groin.

Nick swallows again and nods.

“C’mon then,” he says, leading Louis to the front door. He doesn’t bother saying bye to Harry, and ignores Aimee’s cackle as he guides Louis by the small of his back out the front door. 

It takes seconds to get a cab, and once they’re in the back Nick sort of expects to resume their previous activities, but instead Louis just leans his head back against the seat and sighs. 

“Alright, love?” Nick asks. He can’t quite recall how much Louis has had to drink, and Nick’s fuzzy enough himself that it’s not dangerous, but he’s not exactly feeling responsible.

“Mhmm,” Louis replies, and pulls Nick forward, locking their lips. Nick sighs into it, and they stay like that until the cab stops and the cabbie is clearing his throat pointedly.

Nick pays as Louis gets out. When Nick follows him, its to find Louis glancing around the street with an indiscernible look on his face. Nick slides up behind him and whispers, “Let’s go dirty you up then, hm?” 

If Nick had planned on bringing anyone back, he might’ve cleaned up a bit, but from the way Louis practically jumps him when they get through the door, he doubts they’ll spend a lot of time out of the bedroom. Nick backs Louis up against the wall and kisses him hard and fast. Louis keeps up, fights back, and everything that’s been simmering since they first spoke comes to the surface.

Louis breaks away eventually and pants, “You were the one that called me short. Can’t even lift me up?”

Nick growls and in a not-so-smooth motion picks Louis up and slams him against the wall. Louis squeaks, arms and legs wrapping around Nick, and then they’re kissing again, groins perfectly lined up, and Louis is grinding against him, already fully hard. Nick is hard, too, which is, well, he’s not a teenager anymore. 

As lovely as this position is, Nick’s strength wanes quickly, and so pulls away. He admires Louis shiny, puffy lips as he suggests, “Bedroom, then?”

Louis nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and follows Nick. 

Nicks bed isn’t made, which sadly isn’t out of the ordinary, but Louis doesn’t seem to care, just kicks off his shoes and climbs up onto it, crawling and then flipping around on his back. Nick licks his lips and pulls of his shirt and jeans quickly. Surveying Louis’ sprawled out figure, he climbs on top of him, hands snaking down to undo the button on Louis’ trousers. His shirt has ridden up, so there’s a large patch of skin just above his trousers, and Nick really just wants to lick him, and so he does, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Louis’ abdomen as he rids Louis of his trousers and briefs.

Nick usually likes being a bit pushy and aggressive in bed, which corresponds pretty much exactly to his attitude outside of bed as well. So it’s refreshing, to have Louis take control as soon as he’s ride of his trousers, flipping them over and holding Nick’s shoulders down tightly as they kiss and rock against each other. Nick moans, because this, having to fight for it, might be the fucking hottest thing ever. Louis undulates above him, their dicks rubbing together, and Nick licks his lips. 

“Take your shirt off,” Nick tells him, and Louis does, releasing Nick’s arms to do so. As soon as he’s tossed his shirt on the floor, Nick takes Louis by the hips and rolls them over again, so he’s pressing Louis into the sheets once again. 

Louis laughs, sounding delighted. “Cheater,” he says, but Nick swallows any more objections with a kiss. 

Nick loves this, how their kiss is a bit like a fight, and Louis is writhing under him, struggling against his grip in an effort to get control back. Nick bites Louis ear, then his neck, and Louis moans, the nails one hand digging into Nick’s back. Nick grips his other forearm about Louis’ head, hard enough to bruise. 

Nick goes down on him, pinning Louis’ hips sharply to the bed with both hands, because it seems to be the easiest way to control him. Louis arches, tries to wiggle his hips and whimpers when he can’t, a little spurt of precome catching Nick’s lips. He grins, looking up at Louis’ heaving chest and heavy-lidded gaze. 

Louis isn’t small, but he’s not big enough that Nick can’t get him almost all the way down his throat, breathing through his nose and relaxing his throat as much as possible. He slides one hand down to the inside of Louis thigh, pushing it out as wide as it will go, feeling the muscles trembling under his palm. Nick isn’t one who loves giving head, exactly, but he loves this control, Louis whimpering above him and his cock heavy on Nick’s tongue. He slides up and then back down, eventually releasing Louis’ thigh and cupping his balls as he gets closer and closer, moans growing louder.

Nick pulls off right before Louis comes and helps him through it, sucking on his balls and using his hand for the rest, watching as Louis’ mouth drops open and he rocks his hips through it, eyes slipping shut in pleasure. 

After coming, Louis is surprisingly pliant, panting and spread out on the bed, arms above his head. Nick slides back up his body, kissing his way up Louis’ petit, tanned abdomen, positioning himself so he’s kneeling over Louis, straddling him. He brings his thumb up to Louis’ red lips. “Could I?”

Louis licks his thumb and smirks. “Well I’m not moving, so…” 

Nick snorts, even as his dick obviously twitches on Louis’ stomach, making the younger man laugh. Nick brushes it off, refusing to be embarrassed – it’s not every day he can fuck someone’s throat like this, his dick has a right to be happy about it. 

Louis’ hands come to rest on his hips, urging him forward, and Nick complies, inching up Louis even further so that Nick’s straddling his chest, the tip of his dick against Louis’ lips. He reaches up for one of his pillows and puts it under Louis head. And then Louis is urging him forward again, and… 

Nick groans because this, this is fucking fantastic. Louis’ throat constricts a bit at first, but he urges Nick forward more, working through it, and watching the struggle on his face is beautiful. He’s tractable now, obedient, like Nick’s sort of conquered him – the thought sends a hot flash of arousal through him. It makes Nick want to be careful, though, one hand on the headboard and the other stroking Louis’ hair as he eases in and out, fucking down into Louis’ throat as Louis clenches his hips and moans, looking up at Nick with watery eyes. He licks around Nick in his mouth, and Nick can’t help but buck forward just a little, and that makes Louis moan louder, shutting his eyes with ecstasy. 

It doesn’t take long, rocking into Louis’ mouth and staring down at where his dick disappears around spit-slicked lips. Nick isn’t sure if he should pull out before coming, but Louis still has that grip on his hips, and he isn’t trying to push Nick away. Before Nick can totally decide, Louis does something with the muscles in his throat, combined with his tongue, and Nick groans, coming straight down Louis’ throat. 

Louis coughs as Nick pulls out, eyes red-rimmed, chest heaving under Nick, and lips red and puffy. Nick slides down, kissing Louis mouth softly and deepening it as Louis’ arms wrap around his shoulders. And then their dicks are lined up again, Nick pressed flush against Louis’ body. 

Nick groans, because Louis is already hard again, just from blowing Nick. Nick’s dick actually twitches again at the sight. He pants open-mouthed kisses into Louis’ shoulder as he gently reaches down to slide his palm up and down Louis’ cock. 

“Fuck, do you have-“ Louis breaks off, panting, but he spreads his legs and cants his hips, and Nick knows exactly what he’s saying. 

“Christ, I can’t,” Nick says, regret laced in his tone. 

“I know, just,” Louis looks up at him, positively debauched, and Nick gulps. Louis licks his lips. “You’re fingers?” 

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Nick agrees, licking his lips. He fumbles into his nightstand drawer and draws out some lube, and seconds later he’s slipping a slick finger into Louis, watching breathlessly as the younger boy moans quietly and arches into it. He slides it in and out slowly, crooking his finger inward. Louis is mesmerizing, panting and working himself against Nick’s finger as Nick kneels between his open legs.

Nick tucks a second in just as he returns his other hand to Louis’ dick, and it only takes a couple of strokes and careful caressing of his prostate before Louis is coming with a whimper, body undulating as he rides out his orgasm.

Louis sinks even further into the bed, if that’s possible, eyes slipping shut. Nick cleans Louis up with the sheets – whatever, he’s not getting out of bed – and crawls up to collapse next to him.

“You owe me an orgasm,” he informs Louis loftily, even though he’s only half-hard, and it would take ages for him to come again. 

“Whatever, not my fault you couldn’t get it up,” Louis mumbles. Nick reaches down to his pants at the side of his bed and fishes his phone out, putting it on the nightstand after making sure his alarm is on. Seconds later, he’s asleep. 

* 

Nick wakes up to his alarm at the horrifically early time of 5:30 in the morning, which is quite literally business as usual.

Until he realizes that, even after he’s hit snooze, there’s still some sort of alarm going off, and it isn’t his. Nick rolls over and is immediately met with the sleeping form of Louis, curled up and sleeping peacefully as what can only be his own mobile alarm penetrates the air.

Nick’s not sure what to do, whether he should shake Louis awake, or shut off his alarm for him, or pretend not to notice. Except how could he not fucking notice, because the mobile is blasting that fucking iPhone default ringtone. As Nick is having his internal debate, Louis groans and rolls over, reaching for his phone on the nightstand – the nightstand, really, when did he have time to put it there? – and shutting off the alarm. Apparently it’s not an alarm however, and someone’s actually calling him before dawn, because then Louis is speaking.

“Liam? Christ, what are you doing up so early?” Louis croaks, rolling back over and curling up on his side, facing Nick again. His eyes are still shut, and he snuggles deeper into the covers, like he doesn’t want to leave. Nick can here a frantic voice on the other end of the phone – it sounds like a man’s, which is faintly concerning. Louis sighs and opens his eyes. “You haven’t lost me, I’m fine, I swear. Sorry I didn’t call, I didn’t think… just, sorry. Did Zayn call you, was that it?”

The voice on the other end replies, long and near hysterical. Nick should probably, like, give Louis some privacy, or something, except Nick’s too busy staring at his mussed hair and sleepy eyes and slight stubble. He’s actually ridiculously attractive. Louis stifles a yawn and reluctantly sits up, pushing himself up so he’s leaning back against his pillows. He isn’t wearing a shirt, and although the sheet is covering his lower body, Nick is pretty sure the other half of him is devoid of clothes as well.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Li. I’m headed back now, alright?” He pauses. “No, it’s fine, I’ll get a cab. Want me to pick you up some tea on the way back?”

Nick groans and finally sits up, sliding out of bed and padding over to the bathroom. By the time he’s out of the shower, Louis is off the phone, out of bed, and pulling on his jeans.

“Sorry about that,” Louis apologizes, eyes sincere. “Didn’t mean to wake you so early.”

Nick cocks his head to the side, chuckles, and says, “Don’t worry about it, love, this is when I get up normally.”

 “ _Why_?” Louis asks, sounding horrified. “That’s terrible.”

“I’m on the radio,” Nick explains. He’s not sure whether it’s too uppity to mention that he’s on Radio 1, so he just adds, “I have a breakfast show, so I’ve got to get up early.”

“You couldn’t pay me enough, mate,” Louis says. He’s oddly nice, in the morning, compared to the night before. Not that Nick minded last night’s activities, not in the least. “Do you have a t-shirt, by any chance? Mine’s got wine spilled down the side.”

Nick wordlessly fetches Louis one of his t-shirts and watches dumbly as Louis slides it over his head, running a hand through his hair and saying, “Thanks, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around or something, yeah?”

Nick nods, and asks as casually as he can manage, “You going to be around next weekend?”

“Probably, with Haz or sommat,” Louis says.

“I’ll see you, then,” Nick says, arms hanging limply at his side as Louis gives him a lopsided smile and leaves.

*

The problem with Louis is, of course, that he is ridiculously, unfairly pretty. He’s pretty in a masculine way, and in an androgynous way, both of which are equally infuriating. He has striking eyes and a charming smile and he will probably never, ever age. Louis is so pretty that Calvin Klein, Gucci, and Burberry have all forsaken 6 foot 4, masculine beasts in favor of him.

Nick wants to fuck him again, like a ridiculous amount. Except, Louis isn’t there next weekend when they all go out. Harry seems surprised Louis doesn’t show, which isn’t exactly a good sign. And then the next night Harry and Nick go to this thing that’s mostly Harry’s friends, including his friend Eleanor and Leigh Anne from Little Mix, both of who seem to expect Louis to be there. He never shows up. Nick can take a hint as well as anyone. So he write Louis off as a one-time thing, and when Alexa introduces him that night to a dime a dozen model with dull eyes and a foreign name, Nick takes him home.

He’s all right, but he’s not like Louis, and Nick gets angry with himself for thinking that. The next weekend, when Louis doesn’t show up again, he does the same thing, this time with a blond named Alain. Louis Tomlinson wasn’t even that special, anyways, he tries to convince himself.

On Tuesday, Harry comes to the radio station and offers to give Nick Louis’ number when they go out to lunch, but Nick scoffs and says, “It was just a one-off, I’m not looking for his number.”

Harry looks doubtful, but doesn’t press the matter.

 At this point, Nick is fully convinced he’ll never see Louis again. Maybe he doesn’t even live in London, was just here for the fashion show. Could be off in Milan, by now. At any rate, he’s no longer a part of Nick’s life. Until, that is, two days later when Nick and Aimee saunter into an odd, cozy coffee shop after an afternoon of shopping, and Nick stops dead when he notices Louis Tomlinson himself, sitting at a table by the window.

Nick is curious in spite of himself. He’s never seen Louis like this, with glasses on hunched over a thick, dog-eared book. He’s wearing ratty grey sweatpants, red Toms, and a hoodie with the drawstrings tied into a bow at his neck. At the table with him are two other boys about Louis’ age, one with very short hair and a lads-lad sort of look about him, and the other with messy blond hair and a wide grin on his face as he stares down at his mobile, instead of the text book in front of him.

As Nick watches, Louis shifts and underlines a portion of the page he’s reading, head tilting just right so that his cheekbones look disgustingly magnificent in the sunlight.

“What’re you looking at?” Aimee asks, then she spots him. “Oh. That’s your boy, innit?”

“Not my boy,” Nick objects. He’s fully intending to not approach Louis, but then his name’s called for his order, and Louis looks up at the sound. Before Nick can look away, their eyes meet.

Nick tucks his hands into his pocket and shuffles over, trying to look cool and confident when he’s actually the opposite.

“Nick?” Louis asks, squinting up at him. He marks his page in his book and leans back. The blonde is still on his mobile, but Louis’ other companion is regarding him with an odd look.

 Nick sort of nods his head awkwardly as he takes a few steps closer and asks, “Alright?”

“I guess,” Louis says. There’s an odd look on his face, and it’s making Nick feel like he’s doing something wrong. “What are you doing here?”

“Been shopping, just popped in for a cuppa,” Nick says.

Louis nods. He glances over to his friend, who is quite obviously staring, and says, “This is my mate, Liam. Li, this is one of Harry’s mates, Nick.”

“Right, Nick Grimshaw,” Liam says slowly.

“That’s me,” Nick says, smiling as charmingly as he can. “Liam, is it? So you’re the 5:30 AM wake-up call, then.”

As soon as he says it, Nick promptly regrets it. Liam stiffens, and he glances over at Louis sharply. Louis, for his part, looks mortified, lips thinning and back stiffening.

Sometimes, Nick needs to just keep his mouth shut.

Liam looks like he’s about to say something, but Louis interrupts. “Later, yeah?”

The two of them make eye contact for a long moment, and Nick can feel the silent conversation going on, but he doesn’t know what they’re saying.

“Hey, Tommo, Zayn says check your messages,” the blonde says, speaking up for the first time. “I think he left a course book in your room.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Well that’s utterly unsurprising. Thanks.”

The blonde just shrugs, leaning back into his seat. Liam is still giving Nick a decidedly cold look.

Nick, though, Nick is confused. Because Louis is supposed to be a model, but here he is looking young, and apparently he’s in _uni_ , for Christ’s sake. And Nick doesn’t know what to make of this, of the Louis that wears glasses _or_ the Louis with hair perfectly styled into a quiff. Louis is staring at him with that familiar calculating gaze, and Nick doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or think about all of this.

He’s about to bolt when Aimee walks over, handing him his tea and saying, “Hullo, Louis, isn’t it?”

“That’s me,” Louis agrees cautiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Aimee,” she introduces genially.

“Right, I saw you at Hazza’s,” Louis recalls. “Lovely to finally be formally introduced.”

“Quite,” Aimee agrees. She’s smiling manically, and Nick is rightfully nervous.

“Well, we’ve got to be going,” he interjects loudly before Aimee can continue to make conversation. “Lovely seeing you, ta.”

Louis and Aimee say some sort of goodbye, but Nick is already pulling out his phone and turning away.

He doesn’t need Louis Tomlinson in his head again.

*

 Nick lets this new information turn over in his mind for about a day before he can’t help but bring it up with Harry.

“Did you know Louis was in university?”

Harry looks up from his iPhone and blinks. “Yes,” he says slowly. “You _didn’t_?”

Nick sighs and flops down on the couch next to him. He’s just ordered take in, and Harry is flipping channels to one of their usual shows.

He can feel judgment in Harry’s gaze, he explains helplessly, “He’s a _model._ ”

“That’s just a side thing,” Harry says in a voice that clearly indicates he thinks Nick is an idiot.

“Why don’t you tell me these thing?” Nick moans.

“Does it matter, that he’s not some jet setting supermodel?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know,” Nick sighs. “It just complicates things.”

“You know,” Harry comments, “I’m actually not surprised at all that you’ve never managed to have a meaningful relationship before.”

Nick isn’t too concerned with Harry’s opinion on his love life. Harry has unreasonable expectations about love and relationships.

*

On Friday, Nick’s mum calls and informs him, with entirely no regard for any plans he might have, that Olivia’s going to be staying with him for the week while his brother and his wife go on holiday.

The problem isn’t that Nick has much else better to do, it’s that he has absolutely no idea how to entertain a seventeen-year-old for an entire week.

Nick has worked himself up into quite the panic by the time the cab pulls up to Harry’s place. He tosses the driver a couple bills and hops out, running up the steps and pounding on the door one too many times. He figures Harry will come to the door at his usual snail’s pace, a long suffering look on his face, like Harry’s the twenty-eight-year-old, and Nick’s the teenager.

Instead, he’s floored by the sight of none other than Louis Tomlinson standing barefoot at the door.

Louis gives him an very obvious once-over and comments, “Oh, God, are you one of those people that thinks they’re cool because they’re wearing the t-shirt of a band no one knows about?”

“I came for Harry’s advice, not for your commentary on the state of my clothes.”

Louis snorts. “Coming to Harry for advice, that’s hilarious. He’s in the kitchen, c’mon then.”

Nick follows Louis into the kitchen, feeling distinctly happier than he had a moment ago. It’s just the banter – he likes people who can give it right back to him.

“Alright, Grimmy?” Harry asks. He appears to be making pancakes and bacon, and from what Nick can tell they’re having mimosas in the process. Louis slides onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island, watching idly, basically the exact same thing Nick does whenever Harry cooks for him.

“I need your seventeen-year-old advice, Harold,” Nick says.

“I’m eighteen, you twat,” Harry says. He turns towards Nick. “Also, I you’re your shirt. What band is that?”

Louis bangs his head against the counter, and Nick smirks victoriously.  Harry just looks adorably confused.

“Never mind that, what do I do with a seventeen-year-old girl for a week?” Nick asks. He sits down next to Louis. Harry leaves the pancakes and turns this attention towards Nick, tutting sympathetically.

“Is this Liv?” Harry asks. “When’s she coming?”

“Sunday. My brother and his wife are jetting off somewhere, and I guess my mum was going to watch her, but she’s taken ill, and basically it’s all a mess,” Nick moans helplessly. “And then Liv texted and said she wants to look at universities while she’s down here. The horror.”

“Lou could help you,” Harry says. For a second Nick actually thinks he’s talking about Lou Teasdale, but then he realizes.

Frowning at Louis, he asks, “How?”

“He’s at UCL,” Harry asks, then continues easily as he turns around to flip pancakes, “He could show you ‘round, I bet. And, I dunno, you have that friend at King’s, too, yeah?”

“If by friend you mean Niall’s ex-girlfriend, then yes,” Louis says, making a face. “She was a nutter., though.”

This doesn’t seem to deter Harry.

“Anyways, you should totally take Liv around,” Harry says brightly.

“Right, who’s Liv?” Louis asks, glancing between them.

“My niece,” Nick answers, feeling slightly sick. Like he needs to remind Louis how old he is. “You really don’t have to.”

“No, that’s alright,” Louis says. “I mean, I don’t live in the dormitories, but I can ask Niall, and then show you ‘round campus. I could take you ‘round for a bit Tuesday afternoon.”

“Alright, then,” Nick says faintly. He wonders how this conversation got so fantastically away from him. He tries to observe Louis’ face – does he really want to do this, or is he just being polite? Is he remotely interested in seeing Nick again?

“Great, it’s settled,” Harry says happily. “That’s one day down.”

“And four more to go,” Nick sighs. This might take awhile.

*

Nick actually loves Liv, loves that he gets to spend time with her. Five days might be a little daunting, but he forgets about that as soon as she shows up with a suitcase and a bright smile.

 “Grimmy!” she squeals excitedly as she hugs him tightly. He really doesn’t visit her enough.

 At Harry’s insistence, the three of them go out for a late lunch. Nick thinks feeding Liv’s crush is probably not a good idea, but Harry seemed so excited when he made the reservations that Nick couldn’t refuse. They chat over their sandwiches, Harry smiles charmingly, and Liv twirls her hair.

 Nick still has to do the show, of course, but Liv sleeps clear through it on Tuesday and is ready just in time for Nick to pick her up after to go to UCL. He considered backing out of the plans, but Liv’s excited – she actually _likes_ school – and so was her dad, when he heard. So he keeps the plans to meet Louis at the address he gave Nick.

Louis is dressed just perfect, bundled in a cozy looking sweater and pea coat to counteract the cold weather. The sweater has a wide neck, showing collarbones that Nick has the strong desire to lick.

Liv is, unsurprisingly, immediately enamored by Louis’ charming smile and warm voice. She asks him all about university and what he’s studying, and Louis answers with only a couple awkward glances towards Nick. Turns out, Liv’s questions give Nick more information about Louis than he ever could have gleaned from Harry.

Nick quickly learns that Louis is from Doncaster, has four sisters, and loves Yorkshire tea. His mum and stepdad are getting a divorce, and he lives just a bit off campus with Liam, who’s a childhood mate. As they chat, Louis leads them effortlessly to a dormitory.

“You wanted to look at universities, yeah? Well,” Louis informs her, “there’s nothing more important than your friends and where you live. And coursework, of course.”

 Louis’ friend who lives in the dormitory turns out to be the blonde in the coffee shop. When he opens the door, he’s wearing a snapback and t-shirt. He looks easygoing as he lets them into his room and says, “Sorry for the mess.”

Liv asks a few questions, a bit shy at first and then coming out of her shell. It’s a pleasant conversation, but Nick finds himself distracted by Louis, who apparently has the nervous tick of biting his lip.

Eventually, they’ve outstayed their welcome, and Louis mentions going to walk through some of the academic buildings.

“Hey, mate, thanks again for taking my shifts last weekend. If you need me to take any of yours next week, I’m down,” Niall says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Louis replies, “if it weren’t for you, I’d probably be fired for not being able to find people to cover for me – it was the least I could do.”

“Still, though,” Niall insists. “I’ll take you out for a pint this weekend.”

“Alright, then, I’m never one to say no to a pint,” Louis concedes with a grin. “See you ‘round, Nialler.”

They exit the dormitory without hassle, and then Louis offers to show them a few academic buildings. He’s the perfect tour guide, asking Liv all about what she wants to study, and pointing out key places on campus. Nick and Louis haven’t had lunch yet, so they pop into a sandwich shop for a late meal. Liv is positively glowing, talking excitedly about all of the universities she’s looking at, and how she wants to move to London. Nick imagines his brother must be none-too-thrilled about _that_.

By the time they’ve finished lunch and have ambled outside, Liv is getting tired from their day, and, despite waking up before dawn, Nick finds himself not wanting it to end. It’s different, seeing Louis so open and free of the pretentious, partying scene they first met in.

“Hey, thanks for this,” Nick tells him as their about to part ways. “I mean, really.”

Louis looks a tad uncomfortable, but he smiles tentatively and says, “S’fine, hope I helped, and all that.”

“It was really great,” Liz exclaims. She’s been bouncing on her toes basically all day, and Nick is fairly certain her crush is now split between Harry and Louis.

They say their goodbyes – or, Liv and Louis do, with Nick hovering to the side. When he pulls away from Liv, Louis gives Nick an awkward wave and a “see you ‘round” before turning on his heel and sauntering across the street.

Nick stares at Louis’ receding back, and it’s only hours later that he realizes he still doesn’t have Louis’ number. 

*

Liv leaves Thursday afternoon, and that night Nick goes out to a club with his friends. He’s not expecting Harry to show up with Louis and a tattooed, broody boy he introduces as Zayn.

“Don’t mind him, he just likes the sound of his own voice,” Louis tells Zayn.

Zayn rolls his eyes. Nick can already tell he’s one of those effortlessly cool people Nick can’t quite emulate. “You kids have fun,” he says, and goes over to chat with Pixie and Perrie.

“Haven’t seen you around on the weekend in awhile,” Nick comments, maybe a bit too snidely.. He tries for casual, and thinks he does an all right job of it, especially as he’s leaning up against the bar and all.

Louis tilts his head up to look at Nick. His cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, and perhaps that is why he is unusually open when he responds, “Simon, that’s my manager, likes me to get out, but I don’t have a lot of time for it. I’ve got a night job, and coursework,” he shrugs. “And a couple weekends ago my sister came down, and she’s fourteen, so that wasn’t going to happen.”

“Oh,” Nick says distantly, mind going a mile a minute. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Where do you work?”

“Just a restaurant, but the shifts go pretty late, seeing as it’s a bar as well.” Louis shrugs. “It would be easier if I quit, but it’s good to have a steady income, and all that.”

Nick nods, lost in thought. Because he thought Louis wasn’t interested, but maybe Louis wasn’t avoiding him, maybe he was busy working, and maybe _Nick_ is the one being a bit of a dick about this, not the other way around.

“I want to get drunk,” Louis adds bluntly. “Buy me a drink?”

Nick obliges – buys him three drinks over the course of the half hour, in fact, as they chat about Louis work a bit, but mostly argue about things, especially music. Nick likes arguing with Louis, and if Louis’ bright eyes and flushed cheeks are any indication, he does, too. Or maybe that’s the alcohol.

Nick’s not sure who suggests going outside for some air, but eventually they leave the club, Louis heavy against his side. The bouncer gives Nick a wink, and asks if they want a cab.

“I’m starving,” Louis complains. “Can we get food?”

It probably wouldn’t be such a bad idea to sober up, so Nick says, “There’s this 24-hour diner that has great pancakes.”

Louis smiles like this is the best thing he’s ever heard. “I love pancakes.”

So they go to the diner, Nick awkwardly shuffling in behind Louis, because he’s been here enough times that he knows one of the waitresses is a fan. And that’s not a bad thing, but he really doesn’t want it to be all weird with Louis there.

It’s mostly empty – there’s a group of five or so teenager in the corner and two women who could be out for a night on the town or possibly prostitutes. Nick slides into a booth and Louis takes a seat opposite him, hands clasped expectantly in front of him.

“The pancakes are good,” Nick says. “And the hot chocolate.”

Louis takes one of the menus from the table and squints down at it. Nick doesn’t want to read, thinks it might be hard to keep the letters straight on the page at this point.

When the waitress comes, she looks bored and a little stoned, which is perfectly fine with Nick. He orders a black coffee and pancakes with a side of bacon. Louis gnaws on his lip, like this is the most important decision of his life, before deciding slowly, “Chocolate chip pancakes and hot chocolate, please.”

“And two waters,” Nick adds. Louis glares, but he just raises an eyebrow haughtily.

“You’re so arrogant,” Louis complains. “I hate people like you.”

“You’re a bit snippy, aren’t you?” Nick asks.

Louis shrugs. “You give as good as you get.”

“So do you, it’s why I like you,” Nick says without out really thinking about it. The alcohol must be loosening his tongue, or something.

A smug smile spreads across Louis face. “Oh, you _like_ me, do you?” He looks triumphant. “Did you _miss_ me, did you ask after me?”

“You’re infuriating,” Nick retorts, but Louis just smiles wider. “And I never said I missed you.”

“Yeah, but Haz did,” Louis says, and then bites his lip, like he hadn’t really meant to. “I mean, he’s a romantic, though. Reads too much into things.”

“He is quite the romantic,” Nick agrees. “Disgusting, really.”

“It’s like a disease,” Louis commiserates.

Nick pauses and then says, words stilted and breath a little short. “I- uh, Harry might have been a little bit right on that account, though.”

Louis’ eyes widen. He looks absolutely floored by the admission. “What?”

Nick flounders, running a hand through his hair. There’s raucous laughter from the group of teenagers in the corner. Nick turns to look, but Louis doesn’t, just keeps on staring at Nick with a look on his face Nick can’t quite read. Somehow, they’ve both managed to sober up rather quickly for the conversation they’re having.

The waitress comes with their drinks. Louis cups his hot chocolate and stares down at the frothing whipped cream. Nick goes for the sugar and dumps rather a lot in – whatever, it’s past midnight, health rules don’t apply.

Nick’s not sure where to go from here, has never really been at this point before. A few of his partners have gotten to this point, and they’ve tried to drag Nick along. He’s always run away before, because he’s never reached it, never reached the stage where he’s interested enough to work for it.

But now here he is, and Louis isn’t even asking, doesn’t even have the expectation that Nick finds so frightening.

“This didn’t really work out the way I thought,” he muses. At Louis’ frown, Nick amends clumsily, “I mean, I dunno, I guess I didn’t expect to just sleep with you and then, like, not see you. Or maybe I did, but you’re friends with Haz and then you helped with Liz...” Nick frowns. He feels like he’s saying everything all wrong. “I feel like I’ve mucked everything up. I usually do this all a lot better, but this is all a bit awkward, innit?”

Louis shrugs, “It’s fine, I’m used to it. Most people only see me as a bit of fun, really. I guess that’s compounded when you become a model, and all.”

“I don’t even have your number,” Nick moans. “I’m horrible, really, you can say it.”

At that, Louis hesitates, looking more uncomfortable than Nick’s ever seen him, “It’s probably better you didn’t ask for it. I would have gotten my hopes up. And that’s the worst, basically, because you would have just been being polite.”

 “It wouldn’t have been to be polite,” Nick objects because, what the hell, who _wouldn’t_ want Louis’ number, “you must know that. I’m just honestly horrible at this sort of thing.”

“It’s okay, I’m pretty terrible at it, too,” Louis confesses. He takes his spoon and scoops a good portion of the whipped cream off the top of the hot chocolate, swallowing it all in one go. It certainly makes Nick’s throat dry, but it’s obvious that wasn’t the intention as Louis swallows and goes for more of the whipped cream, concentrating on scraping it off the edges of the cup. His eyebrows furrow in concentration, and it’s so adorable that Nick’s stomach aches.

Louis catches him staring, offering the end of the spoon and asking, “Want some?”

“No, I'm just enjoying the view,” Nick replies, grinning.

“You’re disgusting,” Louis snorts. “Honestly, is that how you used to pick up, back in the day? Did you wonder why they ran away after the first date?”

Nick swallows, heart beating rapidly. “It’s not so surprising they ran, actually. I’m rubbish at relationships,” he admits.

Louis' face falls. He covers most of it up, but it's hard to misinterpret his quiet, "Oh, right. I see."

Nick’s hands are clammy and he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest, but he pushes forward. “But, I mean, I’d like to try? With you. Like, I could take you on a date. If you’d like.”

He stares down at his coffee, afraid to look up. When he finally braves it, it’s to see Louis smiling widely across the table at him, whipped cream forgotten.

Heart still hammering in his chest, Nick slowly smiles back.

*

By the time they get back to Nick’s at about two in the morning, Nick says bluntly, “I’m sorry, darling, I’m knackered.”

“Same,” Louis groans, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. “I can just take the couch, even. Not sure if I can make it up the stairs.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Nick says, and so together they trudge up the stairs, strip off their clothes, and collapse into Nick’s bed. Nick curls an arm around Louis’ waist instinctively, and they fall asleep seconds later.

The next morning is eerily similar to the last time they woke up together, except this time it’s just Nick’s alarm waking them up, and not Liam’s call as well. Louis blinks sleepily up at Nick from his position curled up on Nick’s chest.

“I’ve got to get up, love,” Nick says, running a hand through Louis’ hair.

Louis groans and doesn’t move. Nick can’t quite bring himself to get up, so he just sort of lays there, running a hand up and down Louis’ back as the other goes numb under the boy’s weight. Eventually, Louis rolls away and says, “Get up, you lazy arse.”

 Nick laughs in spite of himself and does as he’s told. By the time he’s out of the shower, Louis is getting dressed. Nick just sort of hovers in the bathroom doorway nervously, but then Louis asks, “D’you have a tooth brush I could borrow?”

 Nick shrugs. “You can use mine?”

 Louis makes a face, but acquiesces. He brushes his teeth in front of the sink as Nick moisturizes his face and styles his hair. After Louis spits and washes out his mouth, Nick offers with stilted words, “You could stay, if you like. I know it’s awfully early.”

 “Can’t, I’ve got a photo shoot at seven,” Louis says.

 “Really? What for?” Nick asks, and it’s surprising because he’s actually curious, not just making small talk.

 “Elle magazine,” Louis says. Nick nods wordlessly, and they finish getting ready in silence.

Louis exits the bathroom and Nick takes five more minutes, mostly just staring at himself in the mirror wondering how this is his life, before following him out. When he does, he finds Louis fully dressed and checking his phone. His hair is tucked under a beanie, and he looks effortlessly perfect. He also might have stolen one of Nick’s shirts again.

 “I’ve to go, but I put my number in your mobile,” Louis says. He looks uncomfortable but defiant. “You know, in case I’m not around this weekend.”

Nick swallows, throat dry. “Yeah, alright, then. I- I’ll call you.”

 “Alright,” Louis echoes, and nods. “See you around.”

 Nick can’t quite bite back a smile before Louis leaves. 


End file.
